“Sindhis are Sufi by Nature”: Sufism as a Marker of Identity in Sindh Julien Levesque To cite this version: Julien Levesque. “Sindhis are Sufi by Nature”: Sufism as a Marker of Identity in Sindh. Deepra Dandekar; Torsten Tschacher. Islam, Sufism and Everyday Politics of Belonging in South Asia, Routledge, pp.212-227, 2016, 9781138910683. halshs-02464387v2 HAL Id: halshs-02464387 https://halshs.archives-ouvertes.fr/halshs-02464387v2 Submitted on 3 Apr 2020 HAL is a multi-disciplinary open access L’archive ouverte pluridisciplinaire HAL, est archive for the deposit and dissemination of sci- destinée au dépôt et à la diffusion de documents entific research documents, whether they are pub- scientifiques de niveau recherche, publiés ou non, lished or not. The documents may come from émanant des établissements d’enseignement et de teaching and research institutions in France or recherche français ou étrangers, des laboratoires abroad, or from public or private research centers. publics ou privés. Julien Levesque, ‘‘Sindhis are Sufi by nature’: Sufism as a marker of identity in Sindh’, in Deepra Dandekar & Torsten Tschacher (eds.), Islam, Sufism and Everyday Politics of Belonging in South Asia, London: Routledge, 2016, p. 212-227, ISBN : 9781138910683 ‘Sindhis are Sufi by Nature’: Sufism as a Marker of Identity in Sindh Julien Levesque When ‘the land of Shah Latif bleeds again’, ‘can Sufism save Sindh?’ Thus asked an opinion article following a recent attack on a Shia imāmbārgāh in the northern Sindhi town of Shikarpur which left more than 60 people dead. For this commentator as for many in Pakistan, Sindh had so far been relatively spared by communal and sectarian violence thanks to its ‘Sufi ethos [which] has long been cherished as the panacea for burgeoning extremism in Pakistan’ (Akhtar 2015). Except for a few cases of communal violence in the years leading up to partition, and a few cases of sectarian violence such as the massacre of 116 Shias during a Muharram procession in Therhi in June 1963,1 Sindh is generally thought of as a province where various religious communities coexist peacefully. But the omissions in this overly simple portrayal – such as the ethnic and sectarian violence in Sindh’s urban centers – in fact reveal the extent to which a certain reified conception of Sindh’s culture – rural, peaceful, and traditional – is associated with a certain form of Muslim religiosity or Sufism, understood as a quietist search for divine union. The depiction of Sindh as a ‘land of Sufis’ has become a cliché repeated ad nauseam by Sindhis themselves as well as by non-Sindhis, including Karachi’s Muhajirs. Political leaders and activists have no scruples referring to it, whether it is common nationalist workers who, during my fieldwork, wanted to impress upon me that they, Sindhis, are ‘Sufi by nature’, or the former Sindh Culture minister, Sassui Palijo, when she declared in January 2011, that ‘Sindh has remained relatively calm and peaceful for decades because of the overwhelming influence of Sufi teachings spread by great Sufi saints and poets’.2 With such statements, people reiterate a long discursive tradition that can be traced to colonial writings on Sindh around the time of its conquest by the British in 1843. 1 Little known because poorly documented, this event is still commemorated by some Shia organizations. See for instance http://worldshiaforum.wordpress.com/2012/12/26/therhikhaipur-massacre-49th-anniversary-of-the-first- large-scale-sectarian-attack-in-pakistan, accessed 16 December 2015. 2 http://www.dawn.com/news/600047/sufism-keeps-sindh-away-from-extremism-sassui (accessed 16 December 2015). Anthropologist Oskar Verkaaik has coined a term, ‘the ethnicization of Islam’, to describe the articulation, in Pakistan, of ethnic identities with certain approaches or practices of Islam. He argues that ‘Islam has become [over time] the main language with which ethnicity is produced [in Pakistan]. Islam is now the single-most important boundary-marker between various ethnic categories’ (Verkaaik 2007, 87). One aspect of Verkaaik’s argument is that since identity affiliations in Pakistan all revolve around Islam in one way or [p. 213] another, Pakistan’s nation building process has been successful in placing Islam at the center of political debates on ethnicity. Another aspect of his argument highlights the association of certain approaches to Islam with certain ethnic groups, as the title of his article suggests by mentioning ‘Sindhi Sufis’, ‘Muhajir Modernists’ and ‘Tribal Islamists’. When it comes to Sindh, Verkaaik writes that ‘a separate Sindhi tradition of Islam was formulated and defended on the basis of refashioned, local, mystical traditions’ (Verkaaik 2007, 91). This ‘ethnicization of Sufism’ consists of the conscious reference to Sufism as a characteristic or as an essential trait of Sindhi identity, as illustrated by Sassui Palijo’s public statement, the previously quoted opinion article or the assertion made to me by nationalist activists. Claiming one’s religiosity of being Sufi has become a way, in certain social contexts, of asserting one’s Sindhi identity. Hence, the discourse of ‘ethnicized Sufism’ in Sindh has played, like any identity discourse, a performative role in reshaping social boundaries.3 But far from happening without contestation, this process in fact places Sufism at the heart of the ‘struggle over representations’ (Bourdieu 1991, 221), in which various social groups, each with its own particular position in the relations of power within a given social field, vie for imposing their own ‘di-vision of the social world’ (Bourdieu 1991, 190). The Sindhi identity discourse on Sufism, shaped in large part by the nationalist leader G. M. Sayed,4 is itself pinned against Pakistan’s official nationalism, which initially sought to promote the Urdu language and Islam as unifiers so as to transform Pakistan’s social, cultural and religious diversity into a single nation made of abstract citizens (Ayres 2009; Devji 2013). Yet the fluctuations in the positioning of the state towards cultural and religious diversity—from Ayub Khan’s nationalization of shrines to Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto’s accommodation of religious diversity to Zia ul-Haq’s Islamization policy— also structured the definition of Sindhi identity by determining what is subversive (‘anti- Pakistan’) and what is acceptable. The idea of Sindh’s identity being grounded in Sufism, in spite 3 French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu has defined identity discourses as performative in the sense that they ‘claim to bring about what they state’ (Bourdieu 1982, 140). 4 Born on 17 January 1904, Sayed Ghulam Murtaza Shah (1904-1995), more commonly known as G. M. Sayed, was one of Sindh’s most prominent and controversial politicians whose career spanned from the early 1920s to his death on 25 April 1995. Heir to the spiritual lineage of Sayed Haider Shah Sanai Kazmi, G. M. Sayed played a significant role in Sindhi elite politics and at the forefront of the Pakistan movement in Sindh, but he left (and was expelled from) the Muslim League in 1946. From then on, he remained critical of the central authorities of Pakistan, which cost him years in prison and house arrest. In 1973, G. M. Sayed called for Sindh’s independence and founded the Jiye Sindh Mahaz (Long Live Sindh Front), forebear of about a dozen Sindhi nationalist parties that exist today. On G. M. Sayed’s life, see for instance: Korejo 2000. of the common usage it has gained, is also hotly contested by some representatives of Sufism in Sindh. This chapter thus questions the place of Sufism in Sindhi identity construction in independent Pakistan. The first part examines the construction and diffusion of the now- dominant Sindhi identity discourse in which being Sufi is presented as an essential trait of being Sindhi, from its colonial roots and to its formalization by G. M. Sayed. The second part of the paper turns to the ‘contested nature of Sufism’ (Shaikh 2012, 188), or Sufism at the heart of the ‘struggle over representations’ in Sindh. Sindh as a ‘land of Sufis’: the diffusion of a common identity marker Sindh has long been termed a ‘land of Sufis’. This discursive tradition can be traced back, at least, to colonial writings of the second half of the nineteenth century. In 1851, Richard Burton observed: ‘There is nothing more remarkable [p. 214] in Sindh than the number of holy men which it has produced, and the extent to which that modification of Pantheism, called tasawwuf throughout the world of Islam, is spread among the body of the people’ (Burton 1851, 198). In the following decades, the Sufi poetry of Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai5 served as learning material for Sindhi for British officials to be posted in Sindh, while the figure of Shah Latif increasingly came to symbolize the religious specificities of Sindh (Boivin 2015). In the first half of the twentieth century, Sindhi Hindu scholars, often influenced by the Theosophical Society – such as Jethmal Parsram, author of a 1924 book named Sind and Its Sufis – also stressed what they saw as Sindh’s peculiar blend of the philosophy of Advaita Vedanta, or non-duality, and the Islamic conception of wahdat al-wujūd, inspired by the Andalusian philosopher Ibn ‘Arabī. As ‘the land of Sufis and of Saints’ that ‘bears a holy flower [which] will give its fragrance freely to all who seek’ (Gulrajani 1979, 3), Sindh, to these authors, is characterized by an inclusive and tolerant religiosity expressed in the poetry of its Sufi poets, from Qazi Qazan and Abdul Karim Bulri to Sachal Sarmast and, most prominent of all, Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai. This conception allowed for the formulation of an essentialized conception of Sindh’s cultural uniqueness at a time when a new Sindhi Muslim elite was struggling for the constitution of Sindh as a separate province.6 The idea of Sindh as a place marked by outstanding religious tolerance found its way into the political realm and Sindhi nationalist discourses after Pakistan’s independence.